First, the notes. Thierry Wasser gave out pyramids to bloggers based on the initial formulas of several Guerlains. He and his assistant, Frédéric Sacone, took them from the original perfumer's handwritten notes. For Shalimar 1925, they are, per
monsierguerlain.
Top: Vanilla, Leather, Bergamot, Lemon
Heart: Jasmine, Rose, Vanilla, Orris, Patchouli, Vetiver, Incense, Civet
Base; Vanilla, Tonka bean, Musk
Except for the lemon, these notes I almost always love in a fragrance. However, our database says Shalimar (Extrait) is:
Top: Blossoms, Bergamot
Heart: Isis, Jasmine, Rose
Base: Vanilla, Iris, Opoponax, Tonka bean
A very different fragrance, sans lemon, in particular, as well as others. Now to put my nose's detective hat on, mindful of the history provided by Wasser in the above link.
Extrait - Lemon is the first note. Lemon wrapped in leather, vanilla and bergamot like the Wasser pyramid says. Then comes the glorious heart. I sniff, waiting for the lemon to take a back seat, but it doesn't. What I smell is loads of vanilla, a gorgeous melange of flower, resin, civet, vetiver and wood, and pronounced lemon. Now I see it's the lemon that kept me from falling in love.
EdC - I use the small vintage bottle because it has a darker color and stronger smell than the larger light one. This has much less lemon. Everything's melding beautifully. I could wear this. Maybe this will happen with the extrait as it dries. Checking: Yes, the lemon's calming down and the other fabulous notes are taking center stage, including vanilla. This is becoming a potent beauty. The bigger, lighter EdC bottle's contents smell nothing like the first two, so I guess I've got my hands on a fake.
Interim conclusion: I had a bad first bottle of Shalimar. Now I know what all the fuss is about. This new extrait becomes absolutely haunting as the lemon mutes. The vintage EdC, while lovely from the start, never achieves the extrait's glory. Also, someone wore this in my childhood. My grand aunt, I'm sure. Makes sense. She traveled all over, had Lucien LeLong beaded bags my mother remembers dragging across the rug. I've found the real Shalimar, at last, and the scent of one of the loveliest women from my early years. I remember it now and my mother's Coty de Chypre, which back then I liked more.
In the next post, I'll sniff the remaining versions, then compare to Coty de Chypre to see if I still prefer it.